Chicken Soup for Dr Holmes
by LadySolitaire83
Summary: Tumblr Prompt Fill for sherlolly29: Established Sherlolly. Molly is sick, but Sherlock does his best to still celebrate Valentine's Day even if they're just stuck at home.


**CHICKEN SOUP FOR DR HOLMES**

**A/N: Thanks to Tumblr user sherlolly29 for the prompt! Hope my fellow Sherlollians had a great Valentine's Day!**

**I own nothing. Everything belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, BBC, Steven Moffat, and Mark Gatiss. If I owned Sherlock and Molly Hooper, then there would be a lot more Sherlolly in the show. All mistakes are mine. Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome.**

* * *

**13:08**

_Feeling better? - SH_

No. Feeling worse, actually. I'm sorry we have to cancel our dinner reservation. - xM

_You've nothing to be sorry for. It's all right. Angelo understood. - SH_

_What are you doing now? - SH_

Rereading _Jane Eyre_ in bed. Irritating Toby with my cough attacks. :P - xM

_Good. We're almost done with the case. John wants you to rest, drink plenty of fluids, and take your meds. - SH_

Yep. Tell him thanks. Could you also ask him to buy milk? - xM

_Why? We just bought milk. - SH_

Not for us, silly. Mary said he hasn't been answering her texts. :) - xM

_We've been chasing a suspect. - SH_

WHAT? - xM

_We're fine. We should be finished in a few hours. I'll see you then. - SH_

Don't get into too much trouble, all right? I love you. - xM

_I know. - SH_

**16:42**

Molly checked her temperature once she awoke from her nap and was relieved to find that it had gone down. However, she was still congested and her chest ached from her most recent cough attack.

She had just blown her nose when she heard a knock on the bedroom door. "Sherlock?" she croaked.

The door opened and the consulting detective entered the bedroom. "Hi. Feeling better?" he asked as he sat beside her.

"Slightly better. My temperature is now 37.5° Celsius, down from 38.4°. But I've still got a runny nose and cough. How was the case?"

He shrugged and touched her forehead with the back of his hand. "It was only a five."

"A five that took you five hours to solve?"

"It took Scotland Yard a while to track down the actual killer." He stroked her arm. "I'm glad you're feeling slightly better."

"I'm sorry again for ruining our Valentine's Day plans."

"Oh, would you stop?" he gently chided her before kissing her on the forehead. "It's a virus that practically everyone at Barts has caught. It's not your fault. I blame Stamford for sneezing on you, though."

She patted the space next to her. "Lie down with me?"

"I have a better idea." To her surprise, he snaked his arms underneath her and lifted her up from the bed.

She wrapped an arm round his neck and looked up at him. "Sherlock, what are you doing?"

He only smiled and carried her out of the bedroom without a word.

"Why do I smell food? You didn't cook, did you?" She glanced round the kitchen, but it looked as it did when he left the flat late this morning.

"You must be feeling better, since you're already poking fun at your poor husband, who had just come home from solving a murder case."

"It was a five! God, you're such a drama queen." She gave a hoarse giggle and then gaped at the sitting room.

Someone –– _Sherlock? Mrs Hudson? Angelo from the restaurant?_ –– had moved the coffee table away from the couch and had arranged a bowl of chicken soup, a plate of goat's cheese and fig salad, a glass of red wine, a glass of water, and a glass of orange juice on the table. A tall, slender glass vase in the middle of the table held a single red tulip. The sofa cushions lay next to each other on the floor between the couch and the table.

She stared at her grinning husband. "Oh, my God."

Sherlock set her down on a cushion and gave her a peck on the lips. "Since we can't make our reservation, I asked Angelo to bring the food here." He pointed to the steaming hot chicken soup in front of her. "He prepared that for you. He also brought the red wine, although I suggest drinking the water and the orange juice for tonight. Mrs Hudson is keeping the main courses warm in her flat."

She smiled and gazed lovingly at her husband. "Thank you so much for doing this."

After bringing a box of tissues from his desk to the couch, he plopped down next to her and kissed her on the cheek. "You're welcome. But half the credit goes to John, since he gave me the idea. I just called Angelo and, as you already know, he'll do anything for me."

She picked up her spoon and tasted the soup. "Once I get better, I'll buy Angelo a present. What does he like? Books? Cigars?"

"Well, he likes cash, gold, and diamonds. But I think a kiss from you would be enough."

She smiled through a cough attack. "I hope you meant a kiss on the cheek," she joked after drinking some water.

"Of course, I did," he replied as he picked up his salad fork. "By the way, what film do you want to watch on Netflix tonight?"

Crinkling her nose, she considered her choices. "_Snowpiercer_?"

"All right. _Snowpiercer_ it is."

Molly turned to her husband and smiled. "I love you."

"I know," he replied before kissing the tip of her nose.

* * *

_Headcanon: The first time that Molly said 'I love you,' Sherlock wasn't ready to say it back. So he said, 'I know'. Molly thought it was a deliberate _Star Wars_ reference. But Sherlock hadn't seen the movie yet, so he was unaware that he made a pop culture reference. On their first Valentine's Day as a couple (before they were married), she suggested the original _Star Wars _trilogy for their date night movie. Since then, it had become a thing between them._

_So... Hate it? Like it? Love it?_


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